


An Ineffable Tale (we will create together)

by Lazulia



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alonzo is a secret drag queen, Buckle up we're about to write a fic together, Drinking, Gen, Is that a crime?, Jenny knows her scotch, Macavity likes indie theatre, More tags to come depending how the story goes, Multi, Rules are inside, These are just for starters, Thievery, Unexpected drag shows, more characters too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 8,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23200672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazulia/pseuds/Lazulia
Summary: In these difficult times, I propose a distraction. I propose a fic, written entirely based on your suggestions. Yes, you!Thanks to amazing reader suggestions, the story so far:Munkustrap has reluctantly agreed to help Macavity stage a production of Romeo and Juliet for a theatre competition taking place among London's criminal underground. Meanwhile, Skimbleshanks has enlisted Alonzo to use seduction to help with a diamond heist, Munk got pulled into an impromptu drag show, and Tugger and Misto have just sat down for a cup of tea with drag queen Old Deuteronomy, who revealed a shocking truth about this theatre competition.What happens next? YOU decide!
Relationships: Mr. Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger
Comments: 63
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The rules, not unlike the pirate code, are more like guidelines. Here's what I propose:
> 
> 1\. Read the starter in this chapter. Then comment with your suggestion of what should happen next. Be funny, be serious, be scary, be romantic. All is good!  
> 2\. I will pick whatever suggestion seems like the most fun/intriguing. There is no criteria for this, I really just will be going with whatever strikes my fancy. I will try to use something from everyone eventually (no promises, but I will try!)  
> 3\. I will write the next part based on the suggestion I pick. There is no schedule/deadline for any of this, but I will aim to update at least twice a day (or as soon as I have at least two suggestions to pick from!  
> 4\. Leave one suggestion per chapter, but please feel to suggest something on every new chapter!  
> 5\. All pairings are welcome. I hinted at Tugger/Misto in the starter, because that's my ship of choice, but you will collectively decide where things go. Suggest new ships at any time (as long as all characters are consenting adults)  
> 6\. Let's keep this one NSFW-free, so everyone can enjoy.  
> 7\. No OCs, let's stick to canon characters.  
> 8\. New guidelines may pop up as I figure out what works and what doesn't. 
> 
> Let's do it! This too shall pass, so let's have fun until it does.

“… and then the peke said to the pollicle, ‘I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that was a sausage roll.’” 

“Sausage roll!” Tumblebrutus snorted, snickered loudly, and nearly tripped down the hill. The grass was still slick with morning dew and it wouldn’t take more than a well-timed bawdy joke or two to send someone careening off their paws all the way to the bottom.

Electra was at his heels, beaming with pride at her joke and patting Tumblebrutus on the back. “Breathe, now. We don’t want you to pass out until we get to where we’re going.” 

A few paces behind, Mistoffelees made a theatrical groan, plastering his palm to his forehead. “I swear, Tug, we can’t take them out anywhere. Who’s been teaching the kittens filthy jokes, anyway?”

“Hehe.” Tugger looked as proud as Electra. “I have.” 

Mistoffelees groaned again, shoving Tugger’s arm. The damn maned tom was lucky he was so affably handsome. And Mistoffelees counted himself quite lucky whenever Tugger invited him on one of these super-secret, super-dangerous missions into the city. It may have been even better if the kittens weren’t tagging along, but at least they kept Mistoffelees from blushing and babbling and giving away what he hoped was a very secret crush on the Rum Tum Tugger. 

Tugger hopped away from the swatting paw. “Hey, if I end up going ass over teakettle down that hill, I’m taking you with me!”

“Oh? I suppose you’ll use me to break your fall?”

“Absolutely,” Tugger grinned, a winning, flashy grin of pure white teeth. “Over and over again.”

Mistoffelees barely had time to look away before the blush finally crept on his face. He focused his attention on the approaching buildings of Victoria Grove as the grassy hill turned into a garden. At the end of the garden, on the other side of a thatched fence, was their goal: the Clocktower pub. 

Electra officiously cleared her throat. “All right, Tumble, stop me if you’ve heard this one! A calico walks into a pub, carrying two sticks and a sardine--”

“Ah!” Tugger chuckled nervously. “Maybe that one’s not quite appropriate for polite company. Or rude company. I told that joke to Munkustrap once and he threw up in his mouth.”

“Besides, we should be quiet now,” Mistoffelees said as the thatched fence came into view. He let Tugger climb first, so the bigger tom could have a look at the path ahead before the rest. It wasn’t at all so he could enjoy staring at Tugger’s arse as he clambered up the fence.

Mistoffelees motioned for Tumblebrutus and Electra to climb up, waiting until they were safely over before joining them, landing quietly on his paws on the cobblestone street of Victoria Grove. 

“Right!” Tugger began, for the benefit of the kittens who were new to this journey into the city. “It is Wednesday, and the most esteemed Clocktower pub here receives their meat delivery on Wednesdays. We can thank Rumpleteazer for that tip. If we time it just so, we will feast like royals.”

Tumblebrutus beamed and clapped his paws. “We’re going to be royals, Electra!”

“A- _hem_.”

The four Jellicles froze at the sudden sound, slowly turning to see who had crept up on them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin_U_Blind, I couldn't resist going with your suggestion!
> 
> Chapter two, everyone. Let's keep the fun going!

“Does Munkustrap know you’re all out here?” Alonzo’s cool, imposing stance would have made the silver tabby proud. Legs apart, arms crossed, chin raised with poised authority, the effect only slightly marred by the overstuffed satchel slung around his chest.

“Ooh, does Munkustrap know we’re out here?” Tugger parroted. His voice reached a comical pitch as he wiggled his paws at Alonzo. “Does Munkustrap want a full rundown of my day? First, I woke up and scratched my arse. Then I--”

Alonzo heaved a sigh that would have made Munkustrap proud. After looking from Tugger with his sarcastic gyrations, to Electra and Tumblebrutus who looked more interested in the distant pub than in Alonzo, he decided Mistoffelees was the likeliest voice of reason here and addressed him directly.

“You know it’s not a good idea to bring kittens out here. We’re close to Macavity’s territory, and Jenny doesn’t want anyone to be seen here since _the incident_ … and this is just a sketchy area of town, anyway!”

“It’s… highly educational?” Mistoffelees shrugged. Alonzo wasn’t wrong per se, but Mistoffelees was quite capable of defending the small group, thank you very much. Or at least, quite capable of flash-blinding a bothersome stray with magic while they high-tailed it out of there.

Alonzo clearly wasn’t buying what he was selling. “There is no good reason to be out here right now!”

“There’s meat!” Electra supplied.

Tumblebrutus nodded. “We were going to feast like royals!”

“Excuse me!” Tugger interjected with his entire body, squeezing in front of Mistoffelees to stare down Alonzo. “Not that I want to interrupt a good scolding, but why are _you_ here making me feel sad about my day instead of Munkustrap? Did he send you because he’s too busy crocheting a hat for the stick up his butt?”

“Well, no,” Alonzo mumbled. He pawed at the strap of the satchel bisecting the fur of his chest. Great, now he had profound regrets about addressing the group. “Munkustrap doesn’t know you’re all here. I happened to be in the area when I spotted you. I’m here for uh… business.”

Tugger hummed long and hard. “Business. Right. Business in this sketchy area, near Macavity’s territory, near where _the incident_ , as Jenny calls it, occurred… very innocent business, right?”

“Hey Alonzo, what’s that purple thing sticking out of your bag?” Electra peeked around Tugger’s butt, pointing at Alonzo’s satchel.

Oh, how quickly the tables turned. Now Alonzo shuffled and sputtered, caught like a kitten as he pawed at the satchel, quickly stuffing the offending item back inside in a cloud of glitter. “Nothing. That’s my lunch. It’s a business lunch.”

“Speaking of lunch,” Mistoffelees diplomatically interjected, squeezing himself in the narrow space between Tugger and Alonzo before Tugger could escalate. This resulted in the tux being all but plastered against Tugger’s front, otherwise he would be draped over Alonzo. “I think we’re a very protected bunch now that you’re here, Alonzo. So why don’t you stick around and eat with us, and make sure we stay out of trouble?”

Alonzo glanced at the large ticking clock face on top of the Clocktower pub. He still had an hour to kill before he needed to be at the Fox and Feather for his important business, and he _was_ hungry… he would just have to be sure to lose the group before he needed to be there.

“All right, fine,” Alonzo said. “But only to make sure you bunch of idiots don’t get into trouble.”

Tugger snickered. “Aw c’mon Alonzo! You can trust us. What’s the worst that could happen?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Your turn, everyone! Great Cat, what IS the worst that could happen just now??_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tara, your suggestion intrigued me the most! Have no worries, we will likely go back to Alonzo's part of the story... eventually!

“Fire, explosions, car chases, dramatic tears…” Alonzo ticked off the possibilities on his paws as he followed the group down the street. “Lots of bad things can happen when Tugger is in charge of anything.”

“Alonzo, maybe I’m daft,” Electra shrugged daintily, falling in step next to the black-and-white tom. “But it feels like you used to be fun.”

“I guess Munkustrap has been rubbing off on him,” Mistoffelees said, glancing behind. He debated whether he should mention to Alonzo that the zipper of his satchel was slowly sliding open and something orange and feathery was poking out. In the end he decided not to say anything. This was much more fun, and besides, Alonzo had made it clear his “business” was his own.

Tugger snorted. “Yeah, literally!”

A swat to the back of Tugger’s head was interrupted as Tumblebrutus bounced up between Tugger and Alonzo, leaping on Tugger’s back in excitement. “There it is! That’s it, isn’t it?”

Between two wooden flower troughs stretched the entrance to the back alley of the Clocktower pub. It was early in the morning and the front of the pub was closed to customers, but from the back came the scent of fresh meat. Rumpleteazer had indeed said the delivery truck came bright and early, and through the back of the pub.

“Onward, my stealthy warriors!” Tugger declared. “First we’ll need a distraction so we can slip in. Alonzo, why don’t you wave those orange panties that are dangling out of your bag?”

“What??” Alonzo slapped at his satchel, stuffing the garment back inside and dislodging another cloud of glitter for his troubles. Sod it all, he knew he shouldn’t have brought that extra corset. Now his satchel was full to bursting. “Ugh, never mind that. You bunch go ahead, I’m going to drop this off at… my place of business.”

“We’ll save you a pork chop,” Tugger chuckled at Alonzo’s rapidly retreating back. “All right, Misto, think you can take care of the distraction? The rest of you, follow me in. Ready?”

One quick illusion of a flapping pigeon did the trick, leaving the humans confused and chattering enough for the four Jellicles to sneak inside the back room of the pub. As promised, the freshly-delivered meat was piled high.

Tugger, Electra and Tumblebrutus wasted no time, tucking into the food. Mistoffelees was about to sink his teeth into a prime rib when he stopped, sniffing the air. “Wait… something doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, we’re not eating these delicious pork chops right now,” Electra said.

“No, it’s… something else. Something…” He trailed off, gratified when Tugger took him seriously and shuffled a bit closer, following Mistoffelees’ gaze around the room. Alonzo wasn’t wrong, this was right on the edge of Macavity’s territory. Damn it, they should have insisted Alonzo stay with them.

“Is it a trap?” Tugger quickly asked.

“No… no, I don’t think so. Teazer wouldn’t have sent us into a trap. Something in here feels like magic, but not a trap… hold on.”

Mistoffelees carefully walked over to a wall tucked under a line of cupboards. The wall was bare, but when he swiped his paw over it with a tingle of magic, words began to bubble up from the wood.

“Whoa, what is that?” Tumblebrutus and Electra immediately dropped their lunch, scampering over to see. “What does that say?”

The letters sparkled. Magic for sure, but as Mistoffelees read the words etched into the wood, his puzzlement grew.

_“If you are reading this, I need your help. It is a matter of life and death. Meet me in Coventry Woods tonight after sunset._

_-Macavity”_

“What the hell?” Tugger eloquently said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _What the hell, indeed? Your turn, everyone!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WaitingForMy, what happens next is all your fault.

“So one more time, please,” Munkustrap sighed, brow firmly pinched between two fingers. “Explain to me why we are here?”

‘Here’ was the narrow dirt path north of the junkyard, winding through a meadow and leading into Coventry woods. After depositing Electra and Tumblebrutus back at the junkyard, Tugger and Mistoffelees had hastily grabbed the silver tabby, with various mumbled assurances of “no time to explain now, we’ll do it on the way”. None of those mumbled assurances seemed to have clarified the situation for Munkustrap.

“Okay,” Tugger began. “You see, Misto and I decided to take the kittens on a field trip to Victoria Grove earlier today…”

“A very educational field trip!” Mistoffelees supplied, bringing up the rear while Tugger explained grandiosely and Munkustrap continued to pinch his face into early wrinkles.

Tugger nodded. “Highly educational! So are we were, uh, studying the properties of pork chops, Mistoffelees found a message. Hidden. With magic. From Macavity.”

“And for all those reasons, you decided the best course of action was to come get me, and _do exactly what the message said_?”

“It said Macavity needed help,” Mistoffelees said. Sure, it sounded ridiculous when Munkustrap said it that way, but…

“And what part of your brains is convinced this is anything but a trap? I should have brought Alonzo, at least. Have either of you seen him lately? Everlasting, what if this has to do with him? What if Macavity’s got him??”

“No no, don’t worry about Alonzo!” Mistoffelees quickly said, lowering his voice as they approached the entrance of the woods. “He said he had business in Victoria Grove earlier. And again tonight at 11pm.”

Any more questions about Alonzo’s business had to be shelved. Munkustrap shoved the other two behind him, stepping cautiously into the woods. There was a 97% chance this was indeed a trap. “Macavity? We got your message. Show yourself!”

A branch snapped daintily. Munkustrap whirled, still shielding the others, shoving his legs apart for maximum protection. Macavity stepped out of the gloom, sharp and serious and, as far as Munkustrap could tell, alone.

“I’m surprised to see you all here,” Macavity coolly said.

Munkustrap hissed low in his throat. He could feel Tugger peeking over his left shoulder. “I’m not one to ignore a cry for help, even if it’s from you. Now what’s going on?”

Macavity’s manner was so unlike his usual finesse, it was almost comical. He shuffled his paws, looking distinctly embarrassed. “Well. You see, every year, the criminal gangs of London get together for a theatrical competition. The winner receives respect and admiration…”

“What, criminal gangs do theatre shows??” Tugger snorted.

“We enjoy crime _and_ performing arts! Is that a crime?”

Mistoffelees coughed delicately. “I mean, the crime part is a crime…”

“My hench-cats are useless!” Macavity moaned. Clearly, he’d been busy hoarding all the drama for himself. “No acting skill, none of them can dance or sing or follow instructions that don’t involve stealing or burning things down. I am tired of losing. You Jellicles… you are a pain in my arse, but you can perform.”

Munkustrap looked dangerously close to pinching his brow once more. “… What show do you want to put on?”

“Romeo and Juliet. A classic that is sure to win. Will you help? In return I will promise not to steal anything or anyone from your junkyard for uh… one week.”

It was about as good a deal as they could ever expect from Macavity. All the same, Munkustrap looked to his companions, still too flabbergasted by the situation to come up with a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Welp, your turn, folks. Like Munk, I'm too flabbergasted to figure out what happens next._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is the very special WaitingForMy's birthday, and in their honour please enjoy the next instalment of this little nonsense tale. Happy birthday, WaitingForMy!! <3

“He did just promise not to steal anything for one whole week,” Mistoffelees said. Munkustrap had called for a quick huddle to discuss the proffered deal, and as the tux peered over Tugger’s shoulder, he could see Macavity, inspecting a claw and anxiously-but-not-showing-it waiting for their response. “A truce is a truce. Plus, I like Romeo and Juliet.”

“I’ve always wanted to play Mercutio,” Tugger supplied.

“All right, fine,” Munkustrap sighed. “But only because I’m still not convinced this isn’t a trap and I’d rather keep Macavity close by until I figure it out. Macavity?”

The Hidden Paw, very much not-hidden right now, straightened up and looked coolly at the gang. “Well?”

“We accept. We’ll help put on the show and lend you some Jellicles who can act. I suppose we should start with the principal roles. We’ll need a good Juliet.”

“Victoria would be great!” Tugger said. “She has the perfect amount of innocence for the part. I’d suggest you, Misto, but you have _too_ much innocence.”

“Gee, thanks,” Mistoffelees sighed. Too bad Tugger wasn’t leaping at the chance to play Romeo, or else he would have put his paw down and insisted he was the very opposite of innocent, _thank you very much_. “Anyway, I think Victoria prefers to dance instead of act. What about Cassandra?”

Munkustrap shook his head. “Cassandra would be the last one to buy into Romeo’s nonsense. I can’t see her pulling that part off. What about Rumpleteazer? Or maybe Admetus would--”

Macavity’s voice boomed, startling the three who’d pretty much forgotten he was there. “ _No_.”

Mistoffelees gulped. “We could hold auditions, if you’re not happy with our suggestions…”

“We won’t need to cast Juliet because I have already decided who will play the part: me.”

Tugger blinked. Mistoffelees gulped again. Munkustrap was now wishing this _was_ a trap, because that would make more sense than this entire conversation. “You. You, Macavity, are going to play Juliet?”

“It’s an important part,” Macavity sniffed. “It needs to be played with finesse. I won’t trust it to just anyone. Now, that part is settled; please, continue the casting.”

Munkustrap drew in a long, stabilizing breath. Everlasting, he really should have brought Alonzo with him, because he needed the emotional support right now. As soon as they were done here, he was going to have to track down his best friend and second-in-command, because he needed a _freaking drink_. “We can figure out the rest of the roles later. Let’s just decide on a Romeo, shall we?”

_Well it sure as hell won’t be me_ , _not with that Juliet,_ Mistoffelees thought, crossing his arms. “It needs to be someone with a lot of passion and skill.”

“Agreed. There is only one Jellicle who has what it takes to play Romeo.”

Wide-eyed, Mistoffelees looked from Macavity to Munkustrap. “You don’t mean…?”

Munkustrap’s sigh was as long as it was suffering. “Oh yes. I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _To quote Munkustrap himself... who will it be? WHO will it be??_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Etc Etc, you win this one! Who better than Skimbleshanks to play Romeo opposite Macavity, indeed!

Mistoffelees gulped. “I mean… we all know Skimbleshanks is more than capable of taking on the role, of course… assuming he’s willing… but you remember what happened the last time we did Shakespeare in the Park with Jellicles.”

“He was fine as Romeo,” Munkustrap shrugged. “We just can’t let him play Macbeth again. Scotland Yard made us promise.”

“Yes, that sounds acceptable.” Macavity harrumphed, inspecting his claws. “If you say this Skimbleshanks shall be my Romeo, then so be it. Now, to cast the other parts--”

Munkustrap interjected. “… Is something we can do tomorrow. Frankly, I still need a long nap and several drinks before I can wrap my head around all this. We’ll be in touch.”

Macavity seemed content with this, which was a very strange state in which to see Macavity. He nodded his farewell and retreated into the woods, disappearing with a quiet rustle.

“But I’m playing Mercutio, right?” Tugger asked as the three took the path back to the junkyard. “I’ve got to be part of that awesome sword-fight scene, and I might have some suggestions on how to spice everything up with a bagpipe solo or two…”

“Why don’t we discuss that when we get to the staging part,” Mistoffelees said, stopping short of clapping a paw over Tugger’s mouth to save Munkustrap’s blood pressure. When the tabby’s tail took on that particular spiked fuzziness, it was wise to tread lightly.

Wisely, the three returned to the junkyard in silence and made a beeline for Skimbleshanks’ den—after all, it would only be polite to inform him of his recent casting success—only to have Jenny open the door and smile at the three unexpected visitors.

“No, he isn’t home at the moment,” Jenny shrugged lightly. “In fact, I haven’t seen him in hours, but I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. Would you like to come in for a cup for tea while you wait?”

“Tea would be lovely,” Munkustrap said, though his gritted teeth spoke quite the opposite. Still, they really needed to see Skimbleshanks as quickly as possible.

“Munk’s lips say ‘tea’ but his heart says ‘scotch’, if you catch my meaning,” Tugger whispered on their way in. “We’ve had an interesting day, to say the least.”

“Oh! Well why didn’t you dears just say so? I’ve got quite a stash right here for days just like that…”

Half a bottle of 12-year-old, single malt scotch later, Munkustrap was feeling much better about things, spilling the entire story to Jenny while Tugger insisted he could take a shot off a blushing Mistoffelees’ stomach.

“I think it’s lovely you’re helping Macavity out,” Jenny said, swigging back a mouthful from the bottle. “And I just know Skimble would be delighted to—oh goodness!”

Munkustrap jumped. “Jenny?”

“Is the scotch okay??” Tugger slurred.

“The scotch is fine, but look at the time! Skimble is never this later coming home—not even when the train is delayed! Dear me, I hope nothing has gone wrong…”

Munkustrap stalwartly put down his glass. The time for drinking excellent scotch was over; the time for action was now. “We’d better find him. Macavity’s play—and the safety of the entire junkyard—is at stake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Your turn now, folks. Skimble? Where IS Skimble?? Has he gone to chase a thimble, or... is he up to something else?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin_U_Blind, look what you did! Poor Skimble...

“It’s getting so late,” Skimbleshanks sighed, gazing wistfully at the Clocktower pub’s clock face as they snuck by under cover of darkness. It was nearly 10pm. Jenny was going to be furious.

“Well we can’t exactly do something like this in broad daylight, now can we?” Mungojerrie peered through the darkness, struggling to keep sight of Rumpleteazer. As the smallest and craftiest of the three, she’s volunteered to scout ahead. She was hardly helpless (she had the meanest right hook of any queen Mungojerrie had ever met, including Jenny) but that didn’t mean he had to like letting her out of his sight on a night like tonight.

“Only because I don’t want you two numpties to get into trouble! I’ve told ye before, I don’t do this sort of thing anymore.”

“We’re only lifting one silly little rock. Easy-peasy!”

Again Skimbleshanks gazed longingly back to the Clocktower. They stocked his favourite scotch in there. Why did this job have to take place at the Fox and Feather? All they had was pitiful whiskey. Pfft. That stuff was for kittens. “Okay, first of all, it’s nae a silly little rock. It’s a diamond. Second of all, how is it ‘easy-peasy’ when you told me yourself… if you don’t succeed in stealing this diamond from Claudius—who is second only to Macavity in London’s criminal underground, I might remind you—then all of _England_ is at stake?”

Even bathed in darkness, Mungojerrie looked sheepish. “It can be still be easy-peasy, eh?”

“’Specially when no one can pick a lock or crack a safe like ol’ Skimble!” It was pure professionalism that prevented both Skimbleshanks and Mungojerrie from yelping like frightened pups when Rumpleteazer suddenly piped up right next to them, having slithered back to them under the cover of dark.

“Cheese and crackers, Teazer!” Mungojerrie wheezed. “Don’t _do_ that!”

Rumpleteazer shrugged daintily. “Coast is clear. C’mon, we don’t got much time.”

Indeed they didn’t. The clocktower struck 10pm as the three squeezed in through a crack in the back door of the Fox and Feather. Lively music and livelier cheers spilled in from the pub, but the thieving Jellicles padded away from the action, to an empty cubby-space in which sat a single, locked safe.

“Here goes nothing,” Skimbleshanks said, razor-sharp and focused as he pressed an ear to the safe and spun the dial. It was quick, easy-peasy indeed for an old pro like Skimbleshanks who was indeed quite nimble, and soon the safe opened with a foreboding creak. A moment later, a diamond bigger than Tugger’s ego came out cradled between Skimbleshanks’ paws.

“We did it!” Rumpleteazer squealed. “Now let’s get out of here before--”

“And _what_ do we have here?”

Skimbleshanks nearly dropped the diamond. He never thought he’d hear that voice again. “Claudius?”

The Claudius in question, an ash-grey tom with an unkempt mane, casually strolled over to the three. “Hand it over now, there’s a good lad. Well well. Good ol’ Skimbleshanks. To what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you’d given up this glamorous life for… what was it again? _Trains_?”

“Shut ye geggie, Claudius,” Skimbleshanks muttered. Did Claudius know why they’d been sent here? Impossible to tell. This cat was as shifty as Macavity, if somewhat less powerful than the Hidden Paw.

“That was uncalled for,” Claudius said, tossing the diamond from paw to paw. “Tell you what. I won’t ask my hungriest and most ill-mannered hench cats to relieve you of your limbs, and in exchange… you will tell me who sent you here. No way the three of you knew where my prized diamond was located. So… _who_ sent you here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So... who IS the mastermind behind this brazen diamond heist? You tell me!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Etc Etc, looks like Bustopher is our new crime lord!

Skimbleshanks carefully considered the question, while Claudius carefully considered him. Oh, for sure there was some manner of honour among thieves, but there were two problems with that.

One, he was not longer a thief. Maybe a long time ago, he and Jenny would have been considered quite the notorious burglars, but that was a lifetime ago. And second… he had no loyalty towards the cat who had sent them on this journey, with promises of England itself collapsing in chaos if they didn’t succeed. He’d heard vague talk of things like _competition_ and _drama_ and it all sounded very dangerous, but Skimbleshanks had planned to be far away on a train by the time any of that came to pass.

One glance at the frightened Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer straightened his resolve. He had to get them out of this mess. “Aye, I’ll tell you. But you give me your word you’ll let us go if I do?”

Claudius tossed the diamond from one paw to another. Skimbleshanks couldn’t help but picture the damned thing slipping and breaking one of the ash-grey tom’s feet. “Of course, I am a cat of my word.”

_You’re talking mince, but all right_. “Bustopher Jones is the one who sent us, and reminded us very insistently that the fate of the entire nation was at stake. That’s all you need to know.”

This diamond very nearly _did_ miss its target this time as Claudius started, fur prickling at the mention of Bustopher Jones’ name. “You… you’re quite sure?”

“Quite sure. You all right there, lad? You’re looking a little off.” Skimbleshanks watched, not without amusement, as Claudius put the diamond back in the safe, paws trembling all the way. Sure, maybe Skimbleshanks hadn’t been active in London’s seedy underbelly for some time, but it was clear things had changed, and that Claudius was scared of this new development.

A pair of fangs glinted in the low light. “Never mind that. I’ll handle Jones… and whatever he’s got planned. I will keep my word and let you three scamper off… but this isn’t over. I will call on you again for this.”

It was the best chance they would get. Skimbleshanks hastily shuffled the other two out, back through the crack in the back door of the Fox and Feather and into the street. The twins almost immediately collapsed against each other in relief.

“That was scary!” Mungojerrie shuddered. “I thought he was going to eat us!”

“I don’t think he’s scarier than Macavity, but that ain’t saying much,” Rumpleteazer agreed. “That was a bust. What now, Skimble?”

Good question. They would have to face Bustopher Jones again at some point and inform him of the failed heist. He was looking forward to that about as much as he was looking forward to explaining to Jenny why he was out so late. At this point, it hardly mattered to hurry home.

Skimbleshanks sighed and parked his paws on his hips. “I know exactly what we need to do now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Over to you, friends. What's next for our intrepid gang?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bustypher Jones, Madeline1999 and Robin_U_Blind... everything came together perfectly, thanks to the three of you!

“For starters, I need a stiff drink.” The Fox and Feather was right there, after all, and after a night like tonight, Skimbleshanks deserved at least five stiff drinks. He still couldn’t believe he’d let himself get dragged into this whole mess.

At the sight of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, huddling on the ground with wide eyes and still trembling from their close encounter with Claudius, Skimbleshank’s mood softened somewhat. He’d let himself be dragged into this whole mess to protect these two numpties, and he couldn’t bring himself to regret that. Damn that finicky, fancy, felonious Bustopher Jones.

No, sod everything. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to the twins. He was going to get that diamond away from Claudius, one way or another.

“As for the two of you, run along home to the junkyard. Tell Jenny I’ll be home soon, all right? There’s something I need to do first.”

Mungojerrie shoved a claw into his mouth, chewing worriedly. “Are you sure?”

“You’re going to be okay here?” Rumpleteazer asked. She mimicked her brother’s anxious action and mouthed her nails down to the quick.

“Nothing to worry about. Now go!”

The moment the two scampered out of sight, and Skimbleshanks was assured enough that neither Claudius nor his hench cats were following, he ducked into the Fox and Feather and breathed in the vivid, sweet stench of alcohol and glitter. One small (and first of many) glass of scotch in his paws, Skimbleshanks slithered into a vacant seat near the front of the stage.

And sipped, slowly, watching raptly as Alonzo took the stage, resplendent in purple and orange, leaving a trail of glitter and wayward feathers on the stage as he twirled and danced his way through “Jungle Jezebel”. He finished his routine with a death drop right by Skimbleshanks, and the two exchanged a meaningful look as the announcer asked for _a round of applause for Feline Fine, wasn't she just stunning, folks!_

Fifteen minutes later, Alonzo (aka Feline Fine) sat in front of Skimbleshanks with a scotch between his own paws. He’d removed the corset and orange panties but his makeup still glittered in the pub’s light.

“I thought we’d agreed to keep our lives separate from… everything else,” Alonzo said. He took a sip and left a smear of purple lipstick on the glass.

Skimbleshanks waved him away. “There’s trouble now, lad, and I need your help. Do you remember all those years ago, when I sent you to seduce a wealthy tom to pinch a gold necklace for me?”

Alonzo nodded, not before smiling at the memory. “I thought you left that life behind.”

“I have. It’s a long story. I need a favour now. Do you still have it in you?”

“Sure, but…”

A sudden commotion near the entrance of the pub made Alonzo jump and nearly spill his scotch. After making sure the scotch was safe, Skimbleshanks craned his neck with a weary sigh. “Everlasting. What could it be now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Indeed, what COULD it be now? It could be trouble, it could be nothing... you tell me!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin_U_Blind, you're responsible for this!

“Ooh! Munk, you scoundrel!” Tugger’s glee was palpable as he surveyed the inside of the Fox and Feather, attracting quite a bit of attention as he rubbed his paws and made eyes at the stage, the clientele, and the bar. “I can’t picture you in a place like this but I’m so _glad_ you brought us here. I want a drink! Something decadent with a cherry in it. Did you know I can tie a knot in a cherry stem using my—hmmph!”

Munkustrap’s paw landed on Tugger’s mouth a resonant clap, one that obscured Munkustrap’s weary sigh and Tugger’s final word, which the tabby knew from experience was _not_ going to be ‘tongue’.

“I’ll take my paw off if you behave, Tug.” At Tugger’s eye-roll, which Munkustrap took as acquiescence, the silver paw fell away and Munkustrap took a good look around the place. He’d heard Alonzo talk about it in vague terms before, but he’d never imagined it was so… glittery.

“Are we just supposed to walk up to random folks and ask if they want to be in a stage production of Romeo and Juliet for a notorious crime boss?” Mistoffelees asked delicately.

“We can put the word out and see who’s interested.” Munkustrap carefully considered a passing drag queen as she winked at him, sizing up whether or not she’d make a good Lady Capulet.

Meanwhile, at the sight of Munkustrap quieting down Tugger and the three now carefully surveying the place, Alonzo ducked under the table in a rush of feathers. “Bloody hell! Are they looking for me? I don’t want Munkustrap to find out I do this! This is just a hobby!”

“Maybe Jenny sent them to look for me?” Skimbleshanks shrugged and grabbed Alonzo’s abandoned drink. No sense letting it go to waste. “All right lad, I’ll do you a favour if you do me one. I’ll cover your escape but you need to agree to my proposition! Agreed?”

“We’ll talk!” Alonzo squeaked, crawling away beneath tables and chairs. And not a moment too soon, as Munkustrap spotted Skimbleshanks and hurried over, sliding into a chair with a look of bewildered resignation.

“Skimble, thank the Everlasting Cat! What are you even doing here? Doesn’t matter… Listen, I need to ask a huge favour…”

***

While the world’s oddest casting call was taking place, Tugger’s glee increased tenfold as he dragged Mistoffelees through the thumping crowd and to the bar. “Finally! Here we go… barkeep! Two Mai Tais, please. And what’ll you have, Misto?”

“Tugger!”

“I’m kidding! C’mon, this is fun. We never do this sort of thing, do we?”

Mistoffelees gulped, looking away from that lively fire in Tugger’s eyes. It wasn’t as though Tugger had ever _asked_ him to go out to wild underground pubs like this, absolutely drenched in decadence and debauchery, and it certainly wasn’t like he would ever say _yes_ to the possibility of drinking and possibly even dancing with Tugger, whirling and cavorting in a vortex of glitter and liquor until the wee hours of the morning…

Oh, he’d drifted. When Mistoffelees blinked and brought his attention back to the actual, real Tugger next to him, there was an empty Mai Tai glass and a feisty look in Tugger’s eyes.

Tugger leaned in real close, the sweet scent of the drink on his breath. “Hey Misto… I just got a wicked idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _.... Uh-oh. Your turn, folks._


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a tough choice, but Etc Etc, I can't say no to Tugger's life-long drag dream!

“Tug, I really think this is a terrible idea--!” As if that would deter Tugger, instead of goading him on. Indeed, the moment the words were out of Mistoffelees’ mouth, the paw on his arm tugged harder and upset his balance, nearly sending him careening into a passing server before he got his paws back under him. He’d barely managed a sip of the Mai Tai before Tugger dragged him off; he didn’t need to be wearing those colourful martinis being carried to quieter, luckier customers.

“It’s a _juicy_ idea!” Tugger chuckled. “Which makes it a _wonderfully_ bad idea!”

They passed Munkustrap on the way over—luckily, quickly enough that the tabby didn’t see them sneaking off into the backstage area—and by the time they got to the dressing rooms, Mistoffelees had to admit the exhilaration of it all was starting to make him grin. His heart was pounding, his fur was standing on end from the adrenaline, and best of all, he was here with Tugger, who was snickering like a kitten as he tested the dressing room doors until he found one that was unlocked.

They snuck inside, and after making sure its user was here in (hopefully out on stage and distraction for a good long time) Tugger wasted no time, bouncing like a kitten as he pawed through the makeup and grabbed a delightfully oversized bra, holding it up to Mistoffelees’ chest. “It’s perfect!”

“It’s… not my colour!” Mistoffelees batted the garment away, giggling despite himself. He didn’t resist at all as Tugger rummaged and came back with a soft, cornflower-blue gown.

“This one definitely is.” Tugger’s paws were gentle, surprisingly knowing as they slid the dress over Mistoffelees’ arms, smoothing wrinkles away at the hips in a way that had Mistoffelees blushing fiercely without the need for any makeup.

Tugger didn’t notice. He practically hurled an eyeshadow palette and lipstick at Mistoffelees, while he continued tossing clothes in the air until he found something he likes. He paused to try on a bright red taffeta number. “Do you think they’ll let us on stage for a bit? I’ve always wanted to try drag! I mean, I’m pretty fabulous on my own, but this… this is the real showtime!”

“You’ll need a drag name.” Mistoffelees turned the makeup over in his paws, not quite knowing where to start. He was distracted by the way Tugger shimmied into the dress, giving him all the right curves and a positive _glow_.

“I was thinking… Venus Pussywillow? We can workshop it.” Tugger grinned, thoroughly enjoying himself, and grabbed the lipstick from Mistoffelees’ paw. “Come on, you’ve never done this before? Let me. Open your lips…”

Tugger’s free spirit was intoxicating, so much more so than the abandoned Mai Tais. As he stood so close, painting Mistoffelees’ lips with the bright red lipstick, the tux’s pulse skyrocketed again. He could feel Tugger’s heat, the brush of his mane, the sweet waft of his breath.

And that’s when something quite unexpected happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Oh dear... NOW what?_
> 
> _Do note that while I decided to launch this fic with Misto crushing on Tugger, there is no rule that says we need to stick to Tuggoffelees (though we certainly can!) All suggestions are welcome, the more outlandish the better!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TheWildJake, this is all your (brilliant) fault!

The dressing room door slammed open, followed by an equally thunderous “Tugger! What the hell are you _doing_??”

To Tugger’s credit, he didn’t flinch in the least, applying the lipstick to Mistoffelees’ lips like a pro before airily turning to the door, which was currently taken up by Munkustrap in a wide-legged stance of anger. “Well now that you mention it, I should have used the tawny peach shade, but I think Misto looks great regardless. Don’t you agree?”

Munkustrap pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to bruise. “Listen, you two. I am very close to getting Skimbleshanks to agree to participate in Macavity’s ridiculous production of Romeo and Juliet. Three people already tried to flirt with me, I am exhausted, and it is time to go home. _All of us_.”

Tugger nodded, not listening to a word as he rampaged through the room, gathering fabric and an eye shadow palette in his arms. “Hey, that’s great!”

“How did you know we were here?” Mistoffelees asked, a little sheepish as Munkustrap gave his dress and makeup an impassive once-over.

“I know Tugger. If he wasn’t at the bar, then he had to be in the last place he belonged. That’s why— _get that off me_!”

“Green is your colour!” Tugger howled back, wrestling a feathery green corset around Munkustrap’s chest. Sure, Mistoffelees _could_ have helped, but it was wiser to stay neutral here, and besides, green really was Munkustrap’s colour. So he stood, watching quietly and marveling at how good Tugger was at buttoning the corset and matching flowing skirt while under duress.

Munkustrap finally opted for the path of least resistance, going limp and letting Tugger have his fun so they could get out of here quicker. A pair of false lashes and sparkling purple lipstick later, Tugger stood back to gaze at his grumpy creation. “Munk! Who knew you had it in you?”

“Hilarious, Tugger. You’ve had your fun, now please get this corset off me so we can leave?”

“How come we don’t do drag shows in the junkyard?” Tugger continued to pick through the boxes in the dressing room, clipping gaudy rhinestone barrettes into his mane. “I bet that would go over so much better than the usual numbers at the Jellicle Ball!”

“Tugger, for the love of--!”

The door crashed open yet again, though Tugger yet again remained completely unrattled as he popped a wig on Mistoffelees’ head. A harried-looking queen was at the door. “Hey, you’re on next! C’mon! What are you… wait, where’s Alotta Glitz??”

“Uuuuhh,” Tugger shrugged. “She… had to take a phone call?”

“Well, she’s on next! Are you three taking her place? Come on, hurry up!”

She grabbed Munkustrap’s paw, dragging him out of the room while Tugger and Mistoffelees followed. “Excuse me, no! We’re not--”

“The show must go on! Just dance and look good, go!” the queen said, thrusting the three past the curtains and onto the stage.

Munkustrap froze; if the song wasn’t about pekes or pollicles, he just didn’t know it. Mistoffelees also paused, but mostly to adjust his wig as the crowd hooted and cheered. And Tugger did not pause, because Tugger never paused before doing anything wild or ill-advised, and shimmied to the front of the three. “Oh hey, ‘Toxic!’ I love this song. Leave this to me!”

_He really is a natural_ , Mistoffelees sighed, a goofy smile on his face as he swayed in the background and watched Tugger gyrate, cartwheel, split, and thrust his way across the stage to the delight of the audience. _We should do this more often…_

Meanwhile, as Munkustrap tried to see if it was possible to move so little that he became invisible, while also wondering if it was possible to kill someone more than once. He squinted at the bright lights, at Tugger’s shaking ass, at the cheering audience…

… and suddenly gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _What could it be? Did Munk see something? Did something happen on stage? Did he just remember he forgot to turn the stove off??_
> 
> _On a slightly more serious note, I hope everyone is keeping themselves safe and as mentally healthy as possible right now. Some days will feel better or worse than others, and that's okay. <3 _


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Etc Etc, couldn't resist! Thank you!

“That’s it!” Munkustrap exclaimed. And then, when it was clear no one had heard over the whooping crowd and Tugger’s not-so-silent lip-synching, he grabbed a handful of Mistoffelees’ dress and pulled the glammed-up tux towards him. It might as well have been part of the choreography for this little impromptu drag show, for all that the crowd noticed. “Misto, I’ve got it!”

“What, stage fright?” Mistoffelees was just starting to enjoy himself, and in fact had been about to execute a rather fetching _fouetté en tournant_ when Munkustrap all but knocked him off-balance, looking like a crazed glitterbomb.

“No! Macavity’s show. Look, if we want our show to win this competition, we can’t just put on the same regular old version of Romeo and Juliet. We need to stand out. Spice it up! Add glitz and glamour! And singing and dancing!”

Mistoffelees diplomatically avoided asking when the heck this weird deal with Macavity had turned into ‘our’ show. Munkustrap had that same gleam in his eye two years ago when he stumbled back to the junkyard with his arms full of fabric and scrap, excitedly yelling something about “pekes!” and “best idea for a show ever, does anyone have any glue!?” Munkustrap was clearly in one of his ‘I am planning a show’ fugue states and it was best to just nod along and hope your costume wasn’t going to be too uncomfortable.

“I need to go think, I’ll call for a meeting tomorrow.” Munkustrap nodded, mostly to himself. Still perfectly made-up in his drag attire, he marched off stage and Mistoffelees had a sneaking suspicion Alotta Glitz would not be getting some of her gear back tonight.

No time to dwell on it. The song ended, and as the collective cheers of the Fox and Feather’s clientele made Mistoffelees’ ears smart, he also narrowed avoided getting an eye poked out by Tugger’s tail as he vigorously bowed and blew kisses.

Yep, Mistoffelees snorted fondly. Tugger was a natural all right.

He was just about to attempt a bow of his own, even though he couldn’t possible take credit for the performance, when Tugger yanked him off-stage in a flurry of feathers, sparkles, and post-performance high.

“Where’d Munk disappear off to?” Tugger asked. He pushed the words out through a broad grin and heaving breaths as the two came to a stop in the hallway just before the dressing rooms. “Did he cringe himself into a hairball and roll away?”

Mistoffelees chuckled, taking a brief but enjoyable moment to straighten one of the barrettes in Tugger’s mane. “He’s gone off home to do some serious planning, I think. Expect a full storyboard and scheduled costume fittings first thing in the morning. I think he’s now officially more excited about planning Macavity’s show than Macavity is.”

“Whatever makes him happy,” Tugger shrugged. He was still vibrating with energy, clearly itching to dance or sing or hold a public reading of Tennyson, literally _anything_ that would get him some attention right now. “Eh well, I suppose you want to get changed and go home too?”

Mistoffelees’ grin became positively wicked. “Actually, you know what? I have a better idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Your turn, folks. Oh Misto, I can't wait to see what your idea is!_


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prism_Streak, great idea!

“I knew it!” Tugger grabbed Mistoffelees’ paw. It was unclear if he was trying to twirl the smaller tom, or drag him back towards the stage, where a tall drag queen in a black dress was busy performing a sultry piece. “You’ve got a taste of fame and now you want an encore!”

“No! No no… I mean, I’m not going back up there now.” Mistoffelees grinned, wrestling free of Tugger’s hold. Being up there performing hadn’t been the worst thing ever, but that wasn’t what he had in mind at all. “Maybe later. No, Tug, I think we should do something nice for Munk. Once he’s had time to reflect on the fact that he got tossed on stage against his will to perform a drag show…”

Tugger hailed a passing waiter, snatching two pale green drinks from the tray. He gave both drinks a cursory sniff and handed one to Mistoffelees. “But he looked so good!”

“How could you even see what Munk and I were up to? Your moves were taking up 90% of the stage.” Mistoffelees took a sip of the proffered drink. It was tart, and strong, and he made a face as Tugger chugged his. “Oh, Everlasting, what _is_ this?”

“Vodka gimlets, I think. So, what’s your idea? We should go buy Munk a present?”

Mistoffelees shrugged at his drink and knocked the rest of it back, pulling an even more twisted face. A bit of liquid courage right now wouldn’t hurt, considering what he had in mind. He shoved the empty glass back at Tugger as the alcohol hit, smooth and languid along his limbs. “Kinda. He’s going to need costumes for Mac’s show and we’re going to go get them. You remember where the dressing room was?”

“Saucy idea!” Tugger chuckled. “As if I’d forget where to find a dressing room. Plus, we just need to follow the trail.”

Tugger was right. Like a more fabulous version of Hansel and Gretel, they followed the glitter trail all the way to the backstage area, down the hallway and into Alotta Glitz’s dressing room. It was still empty, and still in chaos from Tugger’s earlier rampage through the dresses and makeup.

“Grab as much as you can!” Mistoffelees giggled. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a somewhat more sober and even-minded Mistoffelees was telling him this was a supremely bad idea, that proper toms did not steal dresses and headpieces from a drag queen’s dressing room, but the adrenaline-fueled part of his brain was at the helm here.

Tugger shoved makeup and barrettes into a bindle he’d created from a silken scarf, and Mistoffelees managed to drape five dresses over his arm, two bustiers in the other.

“I am definitely wearing that pink one when I play Mercutio,” Tugger declared, eyes fully on the slinky pink number in Mistoffelees’ arms.

“Munk might have opinions about that. Now let’s get out of here before--”

“Before _what_?” Both toms stopped short as a gorgeous drag queen suddenly filled the doorway, painted eyes narrowed sharply. “Before someone catches you stealing from their dressing room, hmm?”

Mistoffelees gulped. To his credit, he didn’t drop the dresses, not even with the mysteriously-absent Alotta Glitz finally making her appearance.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Tugger yelped.

Before Mistoffelees could think of an explanation as to why it wasn’t _exactly_ what it looked like, he gasped. Now that he looked, he recognized the cat beneath the layers of makeup. “W-wait… _you’re_ Alotta Glitz?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Who could it be? WHO could it be? Over to you, folks!_
> 
> _(Updates are coming slower, I know. I've been having a rough time lately, not going to lie. I don't have any stellar advice, but I do have tons of hugs for anyone who's also feeling bleak these days. You're not alone.)_


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prism_Streak and Etc Etc... you both win, whether you wanted to or not!
> 
> Whoever draws Old Deuteronomy as Alotta Glitz gets a free fic.

“Don’t look so surprised, children.” With a twirl of taffeta and glitter, Alotta Glitz sashayed into the dressing room and took the bundles of makeup from Tugger’s paws. Tugger, whose brain was loitering several steps behind in shock, at long last caught on and gasped as he recognized the tom behind the three-inch-long eyelashes.

“D…dad? Wh-… how? Why??”

Old Deuteronomy’s painted lips curled into a patient smile. He hiked up the skirt of his dress and settled into a seat by the dressing room mirror, removing lashes and wig and makeup as he spoke.

“Really, did you think I spent my days sipping tea and whittling wood? We are Jellicles, performing is in our blood. And as the Jellicle Leader, well… you can imagine my desire to perform is even stronger.” Old Deuteronomy’s claws were painted and tipped with rhinestones. He clenched his fist for emphasis, somehow managing to avoid impaling his palm.

While Tugger continued to stand, frozen like a squirrel about to be struck by a car, Mistoffelees shifted the dresses in his arms and watched as Old Deuteronomy slowly transformed back into the kindly old tom with which they were familiar. “… we all assumed you spent your days at the vicarage.”

“No, I do,” Old Deuteronomy chuckled. “I only perform at the Fox and Feather on Fridays. The Vicarage is the vastly superior drag club. You two should drop by sometime. Speaking of dropping by…”

A swipe of cloth had removed most of the makeup, but there was still an aura of glitter and eyeliner as Old Deuteronomy turned to face the two. “Tugger, if you want the pink dress, you may have it. But why are you two here in the first place?”

Mistoffelees glanced in Tugger’s direction, confirming that Tugger was still too busy processing everything to reply. “Well, we… stopped by with Munkustrap.”

Old Deuteronomy brightened rather intensely. “Did you really? Oh, do you know how long I’ve tried to get that lad of mine to come join me up on stage? I’ve had an outfit picked out for him for months. And a stage name. Silver Vixen, isn’t it delightful? But he keeps turning me down, not a care in the world that he keeps breaking his old father’s heart… but if he brought you all here, then maybe he’s reconsidering my offer!”

Mistoffelees diplomatically chose not to mention that Munkustrap had already had his drag debut, less than an hour ago. “Maybe he is, maybe he is. To be honest, sir, Tugger and I were in here to borrow some dresses and makeup for a production of Romeo and Juliet. Munkustrap agreed to help Macavity stage a production for a competition, and--”

Old Deuteronomy suddenly faltered. A makeup brush, twirling between his fingers, suddenly went clattering to the ground as a look of horror crossed the old tom’s face. “Munkustrap is… helping Macavity stage his production? Oh dear… oh no…”

“It’s okay, we have a truce with Macavity!” Mistoffelees hurriedly said. “Munk’s not in any danger, there’s nothing to worry about--”

“I’m not worried about Munk being in danger.” Old Deuteronomy sighed, heaved himself out of his chair. All the good humour was gone as he wearily shuffled out of his dress.

Both he and Mistoffelees ignored Tugger’s horrified whisper of “ _I can see your stockings, dad_!”

“If Munk is helping Macavity stage his production… then we have a much worse problem on our hands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _What IS this problem? How bad can it be??_


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Subject59731 and Etc Etc, thank you for your awesome ideas!

Old Deuteronomy dipped out of the dressing room for a brief moment to order three cups of strong tea, despite Tugger’s insistence that he deserved something alcoholic for having to see his dad’s stockings.

A cup of tea was placed in front of Tugger, Old Deuteronomy locked the dressing room door, and Mistoffelees watched anxiously as the Jellicle Leader sat down in front of them.

“There is much the two of you don’t know,” Old Deuteronomy sighed. “In fact, there is much happening in this city that even Munkustrap doesn’t know. It’s best to keep him in the dark about certain things. He gets _such_ indigestion.”

“Are we still talking about the theatre competition?” Mistoffelees asked, dubiously sipping at his tea.

“Oh yes, young ones. We are _always_ talking about the theatre competition. It’s been determining the balance of power in the London criminal underground for ages. It began as a tradition between the feline crime families. Nowadays, nearly every cat who is up to no good in London takes part. Macavity, Oberon, Claudius, Desdemona, Bustopher Jones…”

Mistoffelees spat a dainty drop of tea. “Did you say _Bustopher Jones_?”

“Yes, he is quite notorious,” Old Deuteronomy nodded. “You see why it’s necessary to keep such things from everyone. His crew tends to win, they are very well-trained. Last year they put on a production of Newsies that brought me to absolutely tears.”

“So why does this put Munkustrap in particular danger?” Mistoffelees asked. “Other than, you know, his usual indigestion from the stress of running a production?”

Old Deuteronomy indulged in a long-suffering sigh. “Because the tensions between Macavity’s crew and Bustopher Jones’ crew have been brewing since last year. According to my sources, Bustopher Jones can finally afford to make a move to get rid of Macavity once and for all, and he plans to do at the theatre competition.”

“Oh no, Munk!” Mistoffelees gasped. “If something happens to Macavity during the show, he’ll be devastated about his production!”

“Well, yes. But there is also the chance Munkustrap and any Jellicles performing will be harmed as well.”

“Wait, wait, back up a moment,” Tugger interjected, finally roused from his stockings-induced stupor. “You said Bustopher Jones ‘can finally afford’ to take out Mac. What does that mean?”

“Dispatching a tom like Macavity is not a simple matter.” Old Deuteronomy drained his tea and carefully studied the bottom of his empty cup. “Rumour has it, Bustopher Jones plans to hire a top assassin, using a recently stolen diamond. In fact, the diamond was supposed to come into his possession tonight.”

“Should we tell Munk about this?” Mistoffelees asked. “Obviously he’s going to panic, but I’d rather have a panicky Munk than a dead Munk. Aw, and he was so excited about making it into a musical.”

Old Deuteronomy nodded. “But there is also the matter of Macavity to consider. He will not take lightly to Munkustrap withdrawing from their agreement.”

“Wait, no!” Tugger rushed over to Mistoffelees, shaking his shoulders and spilling what remained of his tea. “Munk won’t have to quit the show! And I can still be Mercutio in dad’s pink dress! I’ve got the perfect solution!”


End file.
